Lucy
by DeeSkizzle
Summary: Lucy Weasley wasn't like her siblings - that much anyone could discern; but when she becomes hopelessly entangled with the affairs of one despicable Malfoy heir, her variance couldn't be more noticeable. Certainly, a prod in the right direction could change the path of Draco's life - right? Or is she just wasting her time? Eventual DxOC. Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I've always wanted to do something like this; enjoy! More chapters soon!**

**...**

**1981 – August 11****th**

A pained scream tore through the maternity ward at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Outside of the room from which the sound came, a gaggle of redheaded boys were seated in a row of chairs up against the wall. They were all gibbering – incoherently, for the most part, considering only half the lot knew how to use a toilet.

"Finally, another chaser!" Charlie, the second eldest at nine years of age, exclaimed. "Now we can have our own professional Quidditch team!"

"I don't play Quidditch, Charlie," Percy complained. He was five. "I've told you at _least_ a hundred times already."

"And," Bill piped in, struggling to maintain his grip on his squirming brother, Ron. "How're we supposed to practice? Mum won't let Fred and George within ten feet of brooms yet!"

At that moment, Fred leaned over the arm rest of the chair he shared with his twin and bit down – hard – on Percy's forearm. He was going through a phase.

Percy screamed, shoved the three-year-old away, and began to cry rather noisily. "I want Mummy!"

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Don't be a baby, Perce." He glanced warily at the door to his immediate right. "Mum isn't here. And she won't be – not for a while, anyway."

Percy rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands and sniffed. Ron wobbled precariously on Bill's knee and sneezed. Fred and George got out of their chair and began chasing each other around in circles up and down the corridor.

"Got you!" George screeched merrily. He turned and started to run in one direction. Fred caught up to him.

"I got _you_!" he hollered.

This went on for a while, until Percy finally got sick of watching the obnoxious display of rule-breaking. "Stop it, you two!" he whined. "You're going to get us all in trouble! Dad said we had to be good!"

The two identical boys glanced at each other. Then, they attacked. Percy squealed and began to scream.

Charlie, Bill and Ron sat and watched the unsurprising display of violence with dispassionate eyes and wondered when their newest sibling would arrive.

…

"Just one more push, Molly!" Healer Gishbert encouraged, gently. "She's crowning!"

Arthur brushed the sweaty locks plastered to his wife's forehead back. "Come on, Molls. You've got this. Just think – a beautiful baby girl to go home with."

Molly screamed again, her eyes screwed shut so tightly her head began to hurt. A pressure, constantly there for the past few hours, lessened. A piercing cry echoed through the room, and Molly sobbed uncontrollably.

"Oh, Merlin," she sniffled. "Let me see her – let me see my baby."

Healer Gishbert cast a cleaning charm upon the wailing, auburn-haired little girl, swaddled her in a pink down blanket, and handed her to her mother. Molly beamed.

"Ginevra," she cooed, cradling her expertly and running a finger down the baby's doughy, reddened cheek. Her eyelids were tightly shut.

A dull, arresting pressure issued from below, suddenly, and Molly gasped.

"Oh," Gishbert's eyes widened. He checked her birthing canal and glanced back up at the confused-looking parents. "It looks like there's another little one. They must've been hiding behind Ginevra."

Arthur and Molly exchanged a shocked glance. Arthur took Ginny and held her in one arm, grasping Molly's hand with his free one.

They hadn't prepared for this. Another baby posed a whole new financial situation – one even more pressing than it had been. With six sons, one daughter, and another little person they hadn't even known about – well – it was a wonder Arthur and his wife hadn't started going prematurely grey.

They would manage. They always did.

Just one push, and another baby showed itself to the brightness of the delivery room. It was silent.

Molly gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth, her already-wet eyes beginning to well up once more. Arthur paled. Gishbert, to his credit, retained his calm countenance.

"She appears to be having some trouble breathing," he told them, his wand waving vigorously over the gently-squirming baby, whose face was slowly turning an alarming, pale shade of blue. Her hair was the richest of chocolates – even though it was matted with blood and amniotic fluid – and she was a lot smaller than Ginny.

After a painstaking few seconds of uncertainty, Molly squeezing Arthur's hand and trying to stifle her sobs, a weak, squalling whine issued from the girl.

"Ah," Gishbert sighed relievedly. "Just some blockage. She's a bit underweight, I see. But she appears to be just fine." He cast a cleaning charm on her and swaddled her in a blanket identical to Ginny's, handing her to Molly.

Molly took her gently and peered down lovingly at the small infant. Unlike Ginny, her eyes opened almost immediately. They were a warm brown. Like Molly's.

Her tiny fist curled around Molly's forefinger. Molly felt tears pour down her cheeks.

"Oh, Arthur," she grinned up at him. He positively beamed down at her. "Two beautiful girls." She looked down at the little surprise, who stared right back up at her, curiously. "What should we name her?"

They'd only picked out one name, after all. Arthur hummed ponderously.

"Lucille."

Molly chewed the inside of her cheek and cuddled the girl closer. "Lucille… Piper. Lucille Piper Weasley."

Arthur nodded, smiling. "Lucy and Ginny."

After that, there was still some extra cleaning and procedures to be done. So, once the names were copied down onto certificates, Molly was all tucked into her changed bed sheets, and the girls were clothed in tiny baby pink onesies, Gishbert let their rambunctious group of sons in.

"Mummy, Mummy!" George exclaimed, hopping onto the bed. Fred hopped onto the other side. Bill ushered Charlie and Percy in, still holding Ron.

"Hello, boys," Arthur beamed at them. "Look, you have _two _sisters instead of just one."

"You say that like it's a present, Dad," Percy commented, warily. "Remember Fred and George? I thought _they _might be okay, but just look at them now."

Arthur chuckled, but Molly clicked her tongue.

"Hush, Percy," she scolded. "Your sisters are blessings."

Percy still seemed skeptical, but held his tongue.

Bill, ever-aware of how tight money was at the moment, looked to his father in apprehension. The man shook his head and put an arm – the one that wasn't holding Lucy – around his eldest son's shoulders.

"Everything's going to be just fine," Arthur told him, correctly guessing what was on his mind. "We'll make things work, I promise."

Bill nodded, examining his sister curiously. "Is this Ginny?" He shifted Ron's weight to one hip and ran a finger gently over the girl's noggin. "Her hair isn't red."

"This is Lucy," Arthur corrected. "And no, it isn't. But she's just like the rest of us."

Charlie was having trouble deciding which sister to go to first.

"There's so many!" he cried dramatically, falling to his knees and clutching the front of his shirt. Fred and George, having had their fill of Ginny's presence, stood up on the edge of the bed to get a good look at the second Weasley girl in their father's arms.

"Whoa…" Fred murmured amazedly, rubbing a soft, down lock of Lucy's dark hair between his fingers.

He looked at George. Then, patted his hair. George turned to him, startled. "What's you _doin'_?"

"Why you not have hair like Other Baby?" Fred demanded. George was dumbfounded.

Arthur snorted. "Her name is Lucy, Fred."

Fred shrugged. After a moment, "I'm hungry, Da."

"Me too," George nodded.

The Weasley brood would remain at the hospital for a few more hours, in which they would eat at the hospital cafeteria and fawn over their new siblings. Then, they would be forced to spend the night at Aunt Muriel's, because Arthur was staying at the hospital – something they all complained heartily about; Fred and George didn't know how to pronounce enough words to completely express their disgust – and then go home the following day with their mother, father, and two sisters – who were, according to the twins, way more fun than stupid, boring, poopy old Ron.

… …. …. …. …. …. …. … ….

As they aged, the two girls' mannerisms and personalities began to show through.

Ginny was loud, and quick to scream her head off in anger or frustration. Her fists flew sooner than her words did – not that she could speak much at all – and she seemed to enjoy gummily gnawing on people's body parts when bored. Much like Fred, actually, but he quickly grew out of that phase when he saw that his little sister was doing it. Ginny seemed to enjoy watching her brothers zip around in the sky on their broomsticks when she was taken outside. She had a lot of crazy hair straight off the bat, and Molly was constantly trying to tame it.

Lucy was a lot different.

She rarely ever cried, and when she did, it was only because she was in pain. Ginny often cried enough for the both of them, and Lucy was almost always hungry when Ginny was hungry. They had to periodically check to see if she needed changing, because she would never verbally let them know. She started to speak much earlier than her sister. The only things she and Ginny had in common were their looks – they both had the same button nose, the brown eyes, and the smattering of freckles across their noses. Although, there was the rather obvious variance in their hair. Lucy was the only Weasley without the signature fiery locks – her dark, brown hair was plentiful, but it grew straight and was easy to just put into short pigtails and be done with.

She was close to their mum, but Ginny was rather independent and seemed to dislike being in anyone's company for too long, pardoning – _maybe _– Bill.

All in all, she was a passive, quiet baby where Ginny was a brash, demanding one.

… …. … … …. …. … … … … .. … … .. … ..

**1983 – February 17****th**

Arthur had already gone off to work that morning. Bill and Charlie were at Hogwarts – it was Charlie's first year. The rest of the Weasley children were gathered around the table, eating breakfast.

Ginny and Lucy were sitting in highchairs with charmed spoons feeding them at regular intervals. Percy was carefully separating his portions into neat shapes with his fork before eating them. Fred and George would push the sausages out of their squares with their sticky fingers whenever Percy reached for another one; he was getting more and more upset each time. Ron was stuffing everything in his line of sight into his mouth.

Percy's face was a deep maroon when he saw his messed up plate for the fifth time. Lucy saw this.

"Pah-cie," she called. He looked up, his eyebrows raised. She pointed to Fred and George.

He gave them a scathing look. "Thank you, Lucille. I had a hunch that they were behind this."

They blew raspberries at him. Lucy frowned at them. The spoon that had been on its way up to feed her again turned sharply and flew in their direction.

Fred had oatmeal running down the side of his face a moment later; George was being thumped by the spoon repeatedly. Molly turned, saw this, and furrowed her brow. She waved her wand and the spoon fell and clattered on the table.

Ginny was still sleepily eating her porridge. Lucy was giggling. Fred and George were gawking.

"_Lucy_!" Molly gasped, stunned.

Percy smiled at his little sister.

… … … … … … … … … .. … … … .. … .. ..

**1987 – September 24****th**

Years passed. The Weasley children all grew – physically and mentally – and the house felt just a bit emptier without three of its usual inhabitants. Only Fred, George, Ron, Ginny and Lucy remained.

They – that is to say, Ron, Ginny and Lucy; Fred and George no longer permitted Molly to read them stories before bed – were all gathered in Ginny and Lucy's room. The moonlight shone through the purple curtains and illuminated their young faces. Lucy was bundled in her blankets so thickly that she looked more like a snowman than a human; Ginny was on top of her quilt, propped up against the wall; Ron sat on a pillow on the floor, and Molly was rocking back and forth in a rocking chair before them all.

"What story do you lot want to hear tonight?" Molly inquired, her hands clasped together on her lap. Lucy unwound herself from her fluffy fortress and lumbered over to sit on her lap.

"The one about Harry Potter, Mummy!" Ginny exclaimed, bouncing.

"Nobody wants to hear that story anymore, Ginny," Ron complained. "You _always _want to hear that one! I want to hear _The_ _Wizard and the Hopping Pot_."

Molly scowled. "Don't be rude to your sister, Ronald."

Ron exhaled noisily. "But we _do_, Mum! Why do we always have to hear the one that _Ginny _wants to hear?"

Ginny threw a pillow at him. Molly reflexively waved her wand; the pillow stopped halfway through its arch and flew back to the sender. Ginny crossed her arms and huffed.

"No _throwing_, Ginevra," Molly scolded. She looked down to the small girl in her lap. "Now. Lucy, dear, what story do you want me to read?"

Ron huffed. Ginny sighed. Lucy looked between them, uncertain.

"Um…" she blew a wayward lock of dark hair out of her face as a warmish, late September breeze blew in. Lucy smiled. "The story of… how I've got brown hair, Mummy."

The room was silent. Ron and Ginny exchanged a look, and Molly seemed amused. "That's a new one. I suppose I could tell you," Molly mused. "But you have to promise to keep it a secret."

They all leaned forward.

"When your father and I found that our family was getting bigger, we didn't know that there were going to be two babies. Ginny was a very big, very active baby. Lucy was very… quiet. We thought it would just be you, Ginny," Molly said to the redheaded girl. Ginny slid off of her bed and sat next to Ron, closer to their mother.

"Now, you'll have to understand a few things before I go any further into the story. Babies are in mummies' tummies so that they can bake until they're ready for the real world. While they're there, they eat the things we eat.

"At night, Lucy and Ginny traded spots in my tummy. Lucy would squirm her way to the top, and Ginny was forced to find another spot. It was at nighttime, however, that I would go downstairs and eat one of my favorite midnight snacks – _chocolate _truffle_._"

They all giggled. Lucy was running her small fingers through her hair and grinning.

Molly continued, a smile teasing the corners of her lips. "I did this every night – sometimes truffle; sometimes _chocolate _milk; and sometimes _chocolate _pudding…" she paused for dramatic effect. "And the entire time, I had no idea that I was slowly – _ever _so slowly – changing the hair color of the baby on top – the one that was closer to my mouth."

Ron had fallen sideways at this point, trying to suppress his chortles.

"When the babies finally arrived, Ginny's hair was as red as mine or your father's. But Lucy's hair was about as chocolate as all the snacks I'd been eating. And I knew, almost _immediately_, where it had come from."

At that point, she coddled Lucy closer to her and gave her a warm hug. "So you see, Lucy, dear – it's really because of me that your hair is such a lovely brown. Everyone in this family is special in different ways; it just so happens that your hair is what makes _you _unique. Do you understand?"

Lucy nodded sleepily. "Yes, Mummy."

"Good." She shifted Lucy's weight in her arms and rose from her rocking chair. Ginny got back into bed. Ron scrambled to his feet.

Molly tucked Lucy in, her blankets tight around her, placed a loving kiss on the tiny girl's crown, and turned to do the same for Ginny. Ron stood there afterward, his arms outstretched, and Molly put her hands on her hips.

"Now, Ronald, you're much too big for me to carry you."

Ron pouted, but grudgingly shuffled out of the room by himself.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

**1991 – September 1****st**

"They're all leaving for reals, Luce," Ginny wiped at her eyes.

The hazy smoke of the platform did nothing to hide the huge, scarlet train in all of its blazing glory. Their mother and father stood behind them, waving to their siblings. They'd ran into _Harry Potter himself_ outside of the barrier, and while Ginny had been ecstatic before, now she was melancholy.

"Not just yet, they're not," Lucy smiled softly, gripping her sister's hand.

Ginny shot her a confused look. The train began to move.

"Come on." Lucy tugged her hand, and they ran with the train. Ginny laughed and they kept waving and waving.

"Don't cry, Ginny!" One of the twins shouted from their window.

"Yeah!" yelled the other. "We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!"

Ginny's tear tracks were still glistening on her face as she laughed. Lucy pouted.

"What will you get me?!" she inquired, having to raise her voice louder than she ever had before.

"We'll send you a sink, Luce!" the first answered, his maniacally humorous expression firmly in place.

The train was picking up speed. Their meager pace – slowed by their linked hands – was suddenly overcome, and the windows that displayed their brothers' faces faded away in the distance. Ginny fell to her knees, and Lucy tumbled down with her.

They laughed together, clutching at each other's arms.

… … … … … … … … … … … …

**1992 – March 7****th**

Molly bustled away in the kitchen, preparing a light snack of tea and sandwiches for her girls and their friend, Luna Lovegood – she lived with her father just over the hill.

Lucy was fiddling with the wireless; Ginny was busy sewing a button onto the dress of her doll while Luna played with the yarn. A melodious – if a bit high-pitched – voice floated from the old radio, suddenly, and Lucy toppled off of the couch.

"It's Orville Orcus!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Not _that _guy again."

Luna blinked owlishly. "Who's Orville Orcus?"

"He's like Gilderoy Lockhart," Ginny complained. "Only he's got pipes, so he's _all that _and a box of chocolate frogs."

Lucy stood and scooped up the wireless. "Ginny is very opinionated, Luna," she explained, shooting her sister a look. "She doesn't like him _just _to not like him – she's jealous."

"I am _not_," Ginny groused. "And I don't _not_ like him just to not like him! I don't like him because you parade his name around like he's the most perfect wizard that ever lived!"

"I don't dislike Harry Potter," Lucy pointed out. The rest went unsaid.

"At least Harry Potter _did _something," Ginny argued, flushed. Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, and I'm sure he remembers it _so _well."

Luna stood, then, and began to hop on one foot. They both stared at her. She switched feet and made her way around the room.

Ginny cleared her throat. "Er, Luna?"

"You both seem to be plagued by a rather nasty case of Tellaritus," she answered their unasked questions. "It slips in through your fingernails and makes you feel particularly argumentative. The only way to ward it off is to hop around on one foot while thinking peaceful thoughts."

The twins exchanged a look, shrugged, and began to hop around on one foot to ward off their moods.

… … … … … … … .. . … .. … … … ..

**What d'you think? Like it? Hate it? Wish I would go jump off of a cliff?**

**Review and tell me!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A great big thanks to SoulErrorArwitch, Individuality26, MaxandThalia, and AngelofDarkness95 for either reviewing, favoriting or following – or all three! It's amazing to get feedback, so I express my gratitude with many virtual hugs and this new chapter.**

**… … .. … … … .. … . … .. …**

**1992 – August 20****th ****_(A/N: I don't actually know the exact amount of time that Harry stayed at the Burrow.)_**

"Ginny."

Lucy prodded her sister's unconscious form.

"Gin-Gin."

Poke.

"Evie."

Jab.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley."

"Luce, shut up," Ginny mumbled. Lucy sniffed and rubbed sleepily at her eye.

"Come on, I'm hungry. I can't go downstairs without you."

It was true. Lucy tagged along wherever Ginny went – it was rare to see one without the other, even though they drove each other nuts half the time. Where Ginny proved herself to be a bit of a tomboy, playing outside with their brothers when they allowed it, Lucy preferred to stay inside, curled up with a book or cooking with their mother. It was a heavy conflict of interest, and since they were so attached at the hip, they often ended up going one way or the other, despite the other's feelings about either activity.

"Fine," Ginny huffed, sliding out of bed and staring down at her. Lucy had always been smaller.

The younger twin grinned; she'd managed a peek at their newest guest when she took her morning visit to the loo earlier. Ginny would be beside herself.

"Come on, come on, _come on!_" Lucy pleaded, dragging Ginny along by her hand toward the bathroom. "Now, brush your teeth and wash up – remember to get behind your ears – "

" – whoa, whoa – you're starting to sound like Mum." Ginny stared at her, horrified.

Lucy shrugged, shoved a towel and cloth into her arms and shut the bathroom door for her, still grinning like a loon. She slunk back into their room, whipped Ginny's favorite jumper out of the closet and stuffed it under her bed before bolting down the stairs.

She could make her debut without her twin for once. It was all for Ginny's own good, anyway.

"Good morning, Mum," she greeted quietly. Molly leaned down briefly, and Lucy gave her the customary kiss on the cheek before skipping over to the table and sitting down in the chair opposite George, the only empty one besides the one next to – _the one and only_ – Harry Potter.

"That's Lucy," Ron gestured to her unceremoniously.

Harry Potter gave a quiet, polite little, "Hullo."

Lucy bobbed her head in greeting, saying nothing at all like she was wont to do.

Ron gave her an odd look, scratching his head. "Where's Ginny?"

Lucy blinked innocently. "I just woke her."

The older twins exchanged a look. Fred nudged her. "You're up to something, Lucy-Goose," he whispered conspiratorially.

She smiled. "That's the pot calling the kettle black."

George splayed a hand over his heart, faking a wounded expression. "Are you accusing my dear, innocent brother of something, Lucille? How dare you!"

Lucy deadpanned, "Flying an enchanted muggle automobile across the country is what you kids are calling innocent these days?"

Molly huffed angrily. "I'd rather not be reminded of their foolishness again, Lucy dear."

The matriarch set a plate of breakfast down in front of her – eggs, bacon, kippers, buttered toast and a small bowl of porridge – and levitated a glass of orange juice down next to it.

She tucked in hungrily, but with manners.

Unlike _some _Weasleys.

She shot Ron a disgusted look as he scarfed down three pieces of bacon and a forkful of eggs all at once. Some things had changed since they were younger, but her brother's eating habits were always a reliable constant.

"Mum, have you seen my jumper?"

Lucy grinned as Ginny strolled in, braiding her hair absently. The redheaded girl took a cursory glance of the room and froze.

Of course, they knew to expect him over _sometime_. Ginny had been over the moon when they'd gotten Ron's first letter from Hogwarts, letting them know that he and Harry _bloody _Potter were best friends. But that didn't mean Ginny was prepared.

"Good morning," he greeted her just as amiably as he had Lucy.

Her mouth opened and closed. And opened and closed again. She slowly turned a rather damning shade of red and ran from the room, zipping back up the stairs. The slam of her door could be heard all the way from where they were sitting at the table. Harry furrowed his eyebrows in befuddlement.

Lucy sighed.

He shifted awkwardly in his seat. "Was it something I said?"

"No," Lucy told him bluntly, blandly stabbing at her kippers with a fork.

The plan had failed. Miserably.

All because of the one unpredictable factor: the subject.

Harry looked at her oddly, then. Or rather, at her hair. She shrunk a little in her chair under his scrutiny. Ron must have followed Harry's line of sight, because he quickly started talking.

"Well, the one that just skittered off like a field mouse is my other sister, Ginny," he said, snickering a little. "She's been talking about you all summer – she'll be wanting your autograph."

Lucy threw a kipper at him. He saw it coming and caught it in his mouth.

"Oh," said Harry.

Ginny stumbled back downstairs, still red, wearing her jumper. She shot a look at Lucy; the message was quite clear.

_I _know _you knew._ Also, judging by the way she pointedly brushed her hands down her front: _The space underneath your bed is in dire need of a good dusting._

Lucy looked down at her breakfast and promptly decided she wasn't hungry anymore. Mrs. Weasley turned, then, to set Ginny's plate on the table and put more bacon on Harry's. She recognized the look on Lucy's face and piled some on her plate, too. She grudgingly nibbled on a piece, sensing that her mother wouldn't take well to her picky eating habits that morning.

"Honestly," she hissed at Fred, George and Ron, apparently not done fuming. Harry took a sheepish bite out of his toast. She caught his eye and sighed, patting his cheek. "Oh, I don't blame you, Harry, dear. Arthur and I were worried, too – we would've come to pick you up if you hadn't written by Friday." She added three more fried eggs to the boy's plate. "But that doesn't mean," She started in on the boys again, "that jumping the gun and risking being seen and hurting yourselves was the best plan of action!"

"It was cloudy, Mum," said Fred.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Molly snapped.

"They were starving him, Mum!" said George.

"And you!" she added waspishly. But, it was with a slightly softened expression that she buttered another piece of bread for their guest.

Lucy watched the scene play out silently. Molly glanced toward her.

"Lucy, dear, aren't you hungry?"

"No, Mum."

"Well, eat anyway," Molly prompted. "You were born much too small and you stayed that way – it won't do to skip out on meals."

Lucy felt her cheeks prickle embarrassedly. George chortled, but Molly shot him a look and he stopped immediately. Fred set down his fork and knife and yawned.

"Blimey, I'm awful tired," he sniffed. "I think I'll go to bed and – "

"You will not," Molly snapped. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You'll be de-gnoming the garden for me; they've gotten completely out of hand again – "

"Oh, Mum – " Fred began to complain.

"And you two can help," she seethed, rounding on Ron and George. "You can go on up to bed, dear," she added to Harry, her attitude doing a complete one-eighty. "You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car."

"That's okay," Harry said quickly. "I've never seen a de-gnoming before, anyway."

"That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work," she said ruefully, pulling a book from a stack on the mantelpiece. "Now, let's see what Lockhart's got to say on the subject – "

George groaned. "Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden."

Molly beamed down at the flirtatious-looking man on the cover. Lucy wrinkled her nose at the winking photo, wondering how Ginny could ever compare him to Orville Orcus.

For one thing, Orville was a _heck _of a lot better looking than that old man. And Orville _proved _his fame time and time again in every tune that he dropped, while Lockhart always played up his own traits and _sprinkled _useful advice on the side. It was sickening, really – his fan base was composed of mostly middle-aged, stay-at-home witches that accidentally glanced at the gleaming covers of his publications in the shop and decided to get it just because.

"Oh, he's marvelous," Molly gushed. "He really knows his household pests, alright – it's a wonderful book…"

_Case in point_, Lucy thought, wryly. She adored her mother, but _really_ – the fixation was almost unhealthy.

"Mum fancies him," Lucy heard Fred whisper quite loudly to Harry.

"Don't be ridiculous, Fred," Molly scolded him. Her cheeks were tinged pink. "All right, if you think you know better than Lockhart, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if there's a single gnome in that garden when I come out to inspect it."

The boys shuffled out tiredly. Well, the ginger ones did. Harry bounded out behind them, curious, wide awake and happy as a clam. Lucy eyed his retreating form oddly and wondered what kind of work his family made him do that made de-gnoming a garden seem interesting.

"Finish your breakfast, Lucy," said Molly, sternly.

"Yes, Mum," Lucy mumbled, pushing food around the plate with her fork.

Molly turned to leave the kitchen. She paused, however, to turn around and walk over to Lucy's chair. She ran a hand over the girl's hair, smoothing a few stray strands away from her forehead.

"So small," she sighed.

Lucy quirked her mouth to one side and picked up her spoon to dip into her porridge. Molly smiled and finally left. Ginny slammed her fork down across the table.

"You little sneak!" the redhead hissed. "You could have just told me he was here!"

Lucy rested her chin against her fist, swallowing the gooey contents of her utensil. "You usually think better in unexpected situations. You would have freaked out if I'd told you."

Ginny threw her hands up. "Right! Because I was so chill a couple minutes ago!"

Lucy gave a wry little smile and wagged a finger at her arm. "You've got a little..."

Her twin glanced down and groaned embarrassedly. "I thought I'd gotten it all!"

She preceded to wipe the smear of butter off of her elbow with a napkin, a scowl on her face. Lucy observed her while finishing off her bacon. She was so confident when it was just them – or anyone else, really. What was it about Harry Potter that turned her sister's brain to mush and stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth?

…. … … … … … … … … .. … … .. .

**1992 – September 1****st**

"Ron and Harry didn't get on the train."

Ginny's eyebrows raised as they trudged through the train vestibule, trying to find an empty compartment – or, at least one with people they knew.

It was true. The two boys weren't anywhere in sight.

Ginny hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe they've already found somewhere to sit."

Lucy gnawed at her lip and came to a complete halt. "I don't even remember them following us on the platform."

Ginny sighed, ready to relieve her hand of the weight of her trunk. "They're fine, Luce. Come on – "

Suddenly, a rather solid object collided with Lucy, sending her tumbling to the floor when the train lurched forward to begin the trek to Scotland. Ginny yelped in surprise. A boy with sandy hair hurriedly scrambled up and helped Lucy to her feet. His freckled cheeks were inflamed, and his expression belied his extreme embarrassment.

"Oh, Merlin – " the boy stuttered out in a distinctive Irish brogue. "I'm sorry – wasn't looking where I was going, I wasn't."

Lucy shrugged it off. It didn't hurt that much, anyway. "The train was moving. No worries – "

"No worries?" Ginny barked, getting up in the boy's face. "You could have hurt her, you twit!"

He lifted his hands in helplessness, his blue eyes widening in panic. "Bloody hell, you Weasleys are scary."

"Yeah, well we look out for our own," Ginny growled, ripping her wand from her pocket. "That's my baby sister you just knocked down!"

Lucy bristled. "We're the same age."

"I'm a minute and a half older," Ginny bit out. The boy was slowly trying to edge his way away from them, and Ginny rounded on him again. "Hey! Where d'you think you're going?"

"Come on, Ginny, he apologized," Lucy said quietly. The boy gave her a grateful look. "What's your name?"

"Seamus," said the boy. "Seamus Finnigan."

"Well, I'm Lucy," she smiled. "And this is Ginny. Don't mind her."

He nodded, smiling back a little. His cheeks were still red. He mumbled something about a "Dean" and took off down the corridor a moment later. Ginny scowled after him, still huffing. Lucy shook her head.

"You can't get mad at accidents, Ginny," Lucy told her, quite reasonably.

"I can if they threaten our health."

"Well, that doesn't make it right."

"Yes it does!"

Lucy gave a little sigh and they walked together to find someone they were at least a little familiar with. Luckily, they found Luna and another boy – who rather nervously introduced himself as Colin Creevey – in an empty compartment not far from one inhabited by that bookish muggleborn girl – the one that Ron always complained about.

"That's a nice camera, Colin," Lucy commented, smiling slightly as the jumpy, blonde boy fidgeted with said camera.

"Oh, ta," Colin beamed at her. "I got it at Diagon Alley… the pictures move and everything… this whole magic thing is really interesting – I want to be able to look back on it all, y'know?"

Lucy nodded politely as he rambled, not really knowing at all. Thinking about magic objectively, she couldn't really see what the big deal was about it. She'd lived with it her entire life. It cleaned the dishes and dusted the shelves; it stirred the food when Mum was out of hands and kept the Burrow from falling apart. It was interwoven in her every movement and thought, and life without it, well – she didn't know what she'd do.

She had to give it to muggles – they sure were resourceful.

Colin piped up again, "D'you mind if I, eh – "

He held up his pride and joy and gestured vaguely toward her and Ginny, who had been turning over a small, black book in her hands.

"No, I suppose not," Lucy replied, bemused. Ginny's hand shot up to pose behind Lucy's head, knocking her red hairband loose in the process. Lucy made a small noise of protest, her hands going up to push the band back again. Ginny only looked mildly apologetic, hooking her fingers in the corners of her mouth and sticking her tongue out.

The bulb flashed with a snap.

Colin couldn't help but laugh at the photo. Luna, who had been characteristically quiet and reading _The Quibbler_, peered down at the small, stiff little paper-square and an amused smile curled the corners of her lips. Ginny plucked it from Colin's pale fingers and examined it.

"Lucy, you look ridiculous," she laughed. "But I guess I look like a bit of a troll, too."

"I hope that was a joke," Lucy drawled. "Because that would be an insult to trolls everywhere."

Ginny harrumphed. "Shut it."

Colin had dissolved into a fit of giggles – which he would later deny. Luna leaned across the small gap between the seats and patted Ginny's head, to which the redhead reacted by biting playfully. The next ten minutes after that ran in a similar vein; the four laughed and joked and Colin got to take many pictures.

Eventually, however, the excitement of the morning caught up to the four friends, and after they all changed into their school robes (Colin ventured into the loo; the girls stayed in the compartment), they quietened down. Colin was dozing with his mouth wide open and his pale, thin face pressed up against the cool window. Luna had curled up into a ball with the Quibbler over her head. Ginny was leaning against the wall next to the door, snoring very lightly.

Lucy read her Potions textbook.

The journey was far from over, so she decided to get in some last minute information before she spent the rest of the day getting Sorted, indulging heavily in dinner and then falling into a self-induced food coma.

When the words were starting to run together and she found herself comprehending less and less, she realized it was time to take a break. Plus, she had to go to the bathroom anyway.

She looked up and realized everyone was unconscious.

On the seat beside her, Ginny's black book from earlier caught her eye. Lucy lightly poked her sister's cheek.

No stir.

Gingerly, she picked it up. The dark material was leather, and the corners of the worn book were gold-tipped. She opened it up; the pages were stiff and crinkly – very old.

The oddest part about it: they were blank.

"A book with no words," she mused aloud. "Is like a mind without thoughts."

So, it must not be a book. A diary, perhaps?

…Ginny didn't keep a diary, though. She furrowed her eyebrows. How odd.

Deciding to investigate later, she got up to go to the loo. On her way back, she ran into a boy that had given her brother and his best friend a lot of grief the year before, and would be stirring up mayhem for years to come.

Looking back, if Lucy had known what he looked like, Draco Malfoy wouldn't have been more than a passing annoyance to her in her time at Hogwarts. Nothing but a wayward git on the prowl for trouble and other such mess.

But Lucy _didn't _know; as much as her brothers and sister loathed him – Ginny wouldn't stop gushing about how Harry had stood up for her against the little berk in Flourish and Blotts – they never went into excruciating detail on his appearance, and Lucy had never asked. She had been exploring books on dragons and blissfully ignorant of the conflict boiling over on the other side of the store.

So when she locked eyes with him as they passed each other in the vestibule, she didn't feel some sudden upsurge of intense dislike or suspicion, like she probably should have if she knew him.

Instead, she admired the lovely, stormy grey of his orbs. They were sharp and intelligent, and they stayed on her face even as the distance between them grew. She glanced repeatedly over her shoulder at him, and he at her. His sleek blonde hair – pretentious in the extreme – made her want to screw it up just to see what he'd do.

When he reached the door to the next carriage, she paused and looked back, seeing her movements copied. The big lugs accompanying him turned to see what he was looking at, but he gave her one last glance and quickly moved on, his posture straightening and a wall of aloofness erecting around him.

Lucy continued on her way, none the wiser.

… … … …. .. . … … …. ….. …. . .. …. …. .

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Lucy laughed and handed the hat to Professor McGonagall, seeing as she was the last one to be Sorted. The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers, mostly by prodding from her brothers.

Most of them, anyway. Where had Ron gotten off to? And for that matter, Harry?

She took a cursory glance of the hall as she strolled over to her new House. In doing so, she caught a glimpse of the boy from the train; his pale face was fallen with a look of bitter disappointment that she felt her soul echoing unconsciously. He sat at the Slytherin table. She sighed inwardly.

So much for that potential conversation.

There was absolutely no way her family would let her go within fifty feet of any member of the serpent House willingly, classes being the exception.

She settled in next to Ginny at the table, and tried not to feel down. He was just a stranger, after all – she was with her family, and that was what mattered.

With that heartening thought, she cheered up a bit. She raised an eyebrow at Headmaster Dumbledore's completely unorthodox speech following some announcements and tucked into the deliciously grand feast that appeared on the long table. Sometime later, when everyone's stomachs were full (Ron and Harry still hadn't shown their faces), Lucy heard her twin brothers hissing at one another over the din of good friends catching up, old adversaries trading venomous quips, and the much appreciated comments of the occasional wisecracker.

"Why's _he_ staring?"

"Slimy little git's probably scheming."

"It's the hair – think of the stupid little comments, Gred."

"You think I'm not already thinking of them?"

Lucy glanced over at the Slytherin table and realized the blonde boy would intermittently shoot her odd glances. When he caught her eye again, she raised an eyebrow at him and his pale face reddened a bit, before he shot her a sneer and turned back to converse with his buddies.

She blinked. "Who is that, George?"

"Why, darling Lucille, you must have me confused with my dashingly handsome twin brother – "

"I'm serious, you tit."

He merely smirked, so Fred answered, "That snotty little snake is – "

But the Hall was already hushing itself, so they both mouthed, _later_, and at least made an effort to be respectful during Dumbledore's parting words.

**...**

**A/N: She won't get to know his name for a bit. It serves a purpose, don't worry.**


End file.
